She and Her Attitude.
I love perspective writing! And being a Black lesbian! So here’s a piece I wrote about one of my fantasies from the perspective of those I have fantasized about. ENJOYYYY.
She’s had an attitude all day…all week now that I think of it, and I know exactly why. She stomps around, eyebrows concave as the shiny gloss on her lips push further away from her face. I love this game she plays, she changes the atmosphere between us and leaves me to fix it, leaves me to make it right, because she knows I’ll do anything for her. She’s my everything.
She’s not as tough as she portrays herself to be, at-least not with me. I call to her once and only once. Watching her cross her arms over the shirt she has on, the shirt that ironically came from my dresser drawer. She’s the worst, this little attitude of hers.
She saunters over. Her aura, heated as she glares up at me. I applaud her for upholding this facade for so long. In anything she does, she always does such a good job. She huffs as I return the glare down on her. I lower my mouth to her ear. She wants to reach to touch me but her pride holds her back. I open my mouth, thick breath lingering on her neck, “What’s your problem?” I got her.
She’s as fragile as fine china, breaking down as she apologizes for the chip on her shoulder. Snaking my arms around her waist as she whines and whimpers into my chest. She makes me laugh, this superfluous bravado finally crumbles.
She just wanted my touch, only wanted my smell, extra needy for my attention which, of course, she’d never admit. Watching my world come apart in my palms as I melt along with it. She’s so pretty. I pull her even closer, reciprocating the heat between us. She looks up at me once more with soft, misty eyes, this time full of remorse. Oh, she’s so so sorry…and it’s about time I show her how much her apology means to me.